


Teary-Eyed

by way1203



Series: The Fucking Ferry Fustercluck Fiasco [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter needs to cry but doesn't want to in front of anyone, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Being Tony, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 15:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14084352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: Having Tony Stark scold him like a child wasn’t like being yelled at by Uncle Ben, and it didn’t even compare to a tiny memory he had of his dad being disappointed in him for coloring on the walls. It was a thousand times worse.What Peter went through that evening after Tony took away his suit leading up to Peter telling Aunt May he 'lost the Stark internship'.





	Teary-Eyed

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came to me after seeing a gifset of the scene where Peter is teary-eyed and says "I lost the Stark Internship". 
> 
> As heartbreaking as it is, it's one of my favorite scenes because it's obvious he's either been crying or has been trying hard to hold it together. I wrote something about what he's likely feeling on the post but I wanted to write an actual fic from it. If you'd like, you can read it or see the gifset [here.](http://littleholmes.tumblr.com/post/172191193795/buckylicious-elisabetholsen-%E0%B2%A5%E0%B2%A5-watching)
> 
> So here goes...

* * *

Peter Parker screwed the pooch—or at least that’s what his idol said. Peter knew that he messed up when the ferry split in half. He knew he’d messed up again when Karen said he was 98 percent successful. That mess up was an honest mistake. Most people wouldn’t have thought quickly enough, most people would’ve missed five strong points. He’d only missed one. But then again he wasn’t most people; he was Spider-Man. He put himself at a higher standard. He was a superhero. He couldn't make mistakes.  
  
Which is why when he saw Iron Man on the other side of the ferry he knew he royally messed up. He tried to ignore the sense of dread because he was sure it was just one of Mr. Stark’s remote-controlled suits, that the billionaire was off in Fiji somewhere partying and buying meals that cost the same as a month’s worth of groceries. So when that suit opened up and Mr. Tony Stark stepped out, Peter knew he had definitely fucked up.

It was a short argument that wasn’t so much an argument as it was his idol tearing his world apart.  
  
Having Tony Stark scold him like a child wasn’t like being yelled at by Uncle Ben, and it didn’t even compare to a tiny memory he had of his dad being disappointed in him for coloring on the walls. It was a thousand times worse. Peter was embarrassed to admit that Mr. Stark had, in a way, become a father figure to him. On more than a few occasions, he wondered what things would be like if Tony allowed Peter to work even more closely with him as an Avenger...or even as an actual intern with Stark Industries. Peter remembered Tony mentioning having pull at MIT, and he wondered what it would be like to have the older man helping him. It would be awesome if Tony made him even better and taught him things as a sort of science dad. All of those thoughts and hopes were knocked out of him when Mr. Stark basically stripped him of his title and demanded his suit back. And because things weren’t bad enough, Peter had to explain that he didn’t have any other clothes. 

"Okay, we'll sort that out," said Tony. He turned on his heel and stepped back into his suit. "Follow me."

* * *

 

The tension in the car quickly became too much for Peter to bear.

The first ten minutes involved Tony chewing him out all the way to the gift shop where he made Happy run in to "get the kid something to wear home". Tony got ready to grill him again but thought better of it, so the pair sat in silence as they waited for Happy to come back. The gravity of everything that went down that afternoon hit Peter like a punch to the head.

Then there were the handful of minutes it took for Peter to change into flip-flops, a shirt, and—because he wasn’t embarrassed enough—Hello Kitty pajama pants. Tony turned his attention to the traffic outside his own window as the teen dressed and, for that, Peter was thankful because it allowed him to shed a few tears. Once in his new outfit, Peter handed his mentor his suit. Tony looked at it, scoffed at the sight of the spider on the front that once housed an important piece of tech, and went back to lecturing Peter. 

"Taking your tracking device out is one thing, I could chalk that up to teenage ignorance. But that stunt you pulled today? I should make you walk home! Give you time to let the seriousness of your actions really sink in—"  
  
"Tony," Happy interjected. "I think you made your point. If we let him walk home, someone will kick his ass before even gets there, and then what? I think the kid feels bad enough. Let me just take him home."  
  
Tony didn’t agree or disagree, just sat back in the seat and gazed out of his window. After a moment, he took a breath, looked at Peter, and said, "Howard would make you walk. Take the kid home, Hap."   
  
The remaining drive proved incredibly difficult because Peter knew he couldn’t hold in his emotions for much longer. The sides and front of his head ached from the tension. He felt like a Diet Coke that someone had placed Mentos inside but somehow managed to screw the lid back on before it blew. He’d had enough, and now all he wanted was to go up to his room where he could blow and cry in peace.

"I can’t believe I thought you could handle this responsibility, kid. What the hell were you thinking?"  
  
The urge to cry overwhelmed him as he stared out the window. He really didn’t want to answer Mr. Stark. Peter swallowed the lump in his throat and brought a hand up to touch the corner of his eye where a tear threatened to blow his cover.  
  
"You know what? Forget it. I know what you were thinking."  
  
' _No, you don’t,_ ' thought Peter. He knew better than to say it out loud. Arguing his case wouldn't do any good at this point.  
  
_This is where you zip it! The adult is talking._  
  
He’d never forget those words or how small he felt in that moment.

* * *

The car came to a stop in front of his apartment and Peter let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He sat upright and unbuckled his seatbelt. He desperately wanted to reach for the suit that was unceremoniously tucked into the plastic bag from the gift shop between Tony’s feet. Instead, he met eyes with his mentor for the first time since they were standing on the building.  
  
When Tony looked at Peter, the billionaire had an eyebrow raised. "Kid, are you crying?"  
  
Peter shook his head. "N-No. I’m not-I’m not crying."  
  
"Good, cause then I’d _really_ be my dad. Go home, kid."   
  
"Thank you for the ride, Happy. Mr. Stark, I’m sorry I let you down."  
  
Peter left the car before he could hear either of their replies. He quickly entered the complex, his flip-flops snapping against his heels. As he hit the button on the elevator, his breath came out as a shudder. Peter shifted uncomfortably as he waited. He briefly considered taking the stairs but didn’t want to deal with the possibility of anyone seeing him sobbing like the five-year-old he felt he was in that moment. A couple of tears jumped from his eyelashes and landed on his toes as the doors opened. Mercifully, nobody came out to see a teenage boy in an oversized shirt and tickle-me-pink colored pants full-on crying in the hallway. He couldn’t get in the elevator fast enough and he couldn’t stop his shoulders from shaking as the doors closed. Thank God he was alone.  
  
"Dammit," whined Peter.  
  
He wrapped his arms around his chest and hugged himself. One hand settled on his shoulder, while the other curled into a fist beneath his armpit. A sob left his throat as he collapsed in on himself. Peter crouched down and bowed his head. His tightly clamped lids did nothing to stop the steady stream of tears. He sobbed, hoping the elevator wouldn’t stop prematurely to let someone on. He counted the pings and knew his floor was coming up next. Peter quickly stood, dragged his hands over his eyes and down his cheeks. He hiccuped and looked up at his reflection in the metal. The redness of his eyes and nose weren't easy to overlook. He needed to get it together. He wiped his eyes again just in time for the doors to open.

An older woman, Mrs. Reska, shuffled down the hall in front of Peter. He took the time to walk slowly himself. He turned the corner and dragged himself to his front door. Hesitant, he raised his fist and knocked. He hoped he would be able to make it to his room without Aunt May asking why his face looked the way it did.

* * *

  
Shit.  
  
Aunt May was _pissed_. Actually, she seemed to be scared and worried and relieved and shaken and it all blended together and kinda came out as pissed. Peter shut and locked the door. He felt himself start to zone out.  
  
' _Not Aunt May, too,_ ' he thought. ' _I can’t, I really can’t take getting yelled at again._ '  
  
He tried to tell her he was okay and that she needed to relax.

"Cut the bullshit," snapped Aunt May.

Of course, that shook Peter. But then she started to pull out receipts he wasn’t ready to learn she had. Aunt May knew he snuck out in Washington. _How? Did someone tell her?_ She knew he snuck out of the house at night.  
  
_Well, shit._  
  
_Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck._  
  
He’d been so careful. He webbed himself to buildings from his window so he wouldn’t make noise on the fire escape.

But it didn't matter now because Aunt May knew and was currently demanding answers he didn't have unless he wanted to give her a heart attack by revealing his identity.  
  
_Shit._

Peter swallowed. He felt like a deer in the headlights. He seriously couldn't handle her being mad at him too. His secret's out, his mentor’s pissed, he almost couldn’t save a ton of people, his suit's gone, and now this on top of it all. He felt his throat tighten. It's too much. It’s all too much. He can’t take it.  
  
He blinked back tears. “I lost the Stark internship."

That's all he could bring himself to tell Aunt May, because what’s another lie, right? Except it’s not another lie because it’s actually kind of true. He lost it.  
  
He lost everyone’s trust. He lost his academic decathlon friends. He lost Mr. Stark. He lost his suit and Karen. _Karen._ _How did he forget Karen?_ No more suit meant no more conversations with his kickass AI. He lost the "internship". No, scratch that. 

He lost _everything_. 

* * *

Peter muttered a few things to Aunt May, who became much more understanding, then went off to shower because he smelled.

Once inside the bathroom, he locked himself inside, turned on the water, and crumbled. When Peter heads to bed that night without dinner—because he’s really not hungry—he’s numb. His head pounds from spending just under fifteen minutes in the shower crying. Actually, it took about five to scrub his hair and body, and the rest was spent sitting on the bottom of the tub sobbing quietly until the water ran cold.  
  
Peter doesn't even bother to dry his hair. Instead, he throws on a pair of boxers and crawls into bed with a huff. He knows he should probably drink some water to rehydrate and ease the aching in his head, but he doesn't. He’s tired and he just can’t right now. He’s struggling to process everything that’s happened over the last several hours. Another wave of sadness hits him when he sees hints of his old costume bunched up in a corner of his closet beneath some clothes. After turning his back, he faces the wall and closes his eyes.   
  
_If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it._  
  
The words echo in every corner of his mind. He can’t forget them even if he wanted to—and he really, really wants, no, _needs_ those words out of his memory. Another round of tears crashes down like the ferry almost managed to do thanks to his mistake.  
  
"I fucked everything up," he whispers to himself. "I disappointed everyone."


End file.
